


All I Need Is A Hand To Hold

by thedisturberofthepeace



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, civillian au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-03 21:53:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10976076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedisturberofthepeace/pseuds/thedisturberofthepeace
Summary: He could feel himself being dragged from the last dregs of consciousness when he saw a man run towards him, yelling soundlessly. The last thought Leonard had before succumbing to sleep was how stupidly endearing the man’s blunt bangs were as they flew up around his forehead.Leonard lost everything when his father died and his emotional heart is causing him to lose even more. Maybe all he needs is a little logic to help guide him through.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please ignore the time stamps on the text messages. The first text is by itself, the next two are another day, and the last two are a few days after that.

Leonard squinted against the bright blue screen and the dismal words of his, apparently former, head nurse. 

[](http://s349.photobucket.com/user/thedisturberofthepeace/media/5920b2c05d348%20copy_zpsir3ezys9.jpg.html)

It was Tuesday now. Only six days left. He slumped back against the park bench and rubbed his thickened beard wearily. It wasn't the most pleasant news. If he couldn't get his shit together he’d be out of a job in no time. Did it matter? His father was already dead and his wife and thrown him out with a promise to divorce him and take their daughter with her. Leonard had nothing left but his bones.

His stomach rumbled with the pain and guilt of it all. And probably hunger too. The only thing he'd been able to eat were a few cheese sandwiches and a cheap bottle of whiskey the tasted more like aged gasoline. He wondered a bitterly if it would be the starvation, dehydration, or his own guilt that would kill him first.

Leonard let out a frustrated cry, scaring the only other living creature in the tiny park. The poor thing looked more like a pig straight out of the sty than he did. His legs shook like rubber as he stood and forced himself to walk down an unkept path. He needed to eat. He needed to sleep. But he couldn't. The first few benches he tried to sleep on, he was woken up by policeman who had gotten calls about a “drunken homeless man” making the neighborhood residents nervous. When he did find a quiet place to rest he was plagued by night terrors worse than the devil himself.

He couldn't go home, Joce wouldn’t let him. He was out of money, out of food, he couldn’t afford bread let alone a motel room. He should go back to the hospital, but he couldn't bring himself to go back to where it happened. The memory of his father trembling in pain at the slightest touch was seared into his mind. The look on his face when he asked Leonard to- He just couldn't do it. He didn't think he could ever go back.

The rough bark of a nearby Oak dug painfully into his left arm and cheek. When had he leant against this tree? His vision blurred and he clawed at the trunk, trying to keep his balance as the ground turned to liquid beneath him. Leonard closed his eyes and felt himself fall back. He expected the waves of dirt and grass to envelop him gently and pull him quietly into its depths. Instead, the ground seemed to rise up and greet him with a sucker punch. Ears ringing, vision bursting with white, Leonard panicked and found he couldn't draw a full breath. ‘Please, oh God, please don't let me die. I'm not ready to face Mama and Daddy for what I've done’.

He could feel himself being dragged from the last dregs of consciousness when he saw a man run towards him, yelling soundlessly. The last thought Leonard had before succumbing to sleep was how stupidly endearing the man’s blunt bangs were as they flew up around his forehead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and your comments! The support is appreciated. This will be the shortest chapter I've ever written but I wanted to make you the readers and Len more connected so let me know how you feel about it ;)

     Too bright. Eyes clench shut.  Something cool and firm around his back, pushing him up. Shit. Head pounding. Another cool, firm… hand(?) holding his chin. Feels good. Lean into it. A cup presses at his lips. Steam on his face. Smell. Ugggghhhhh. Good smell. He tries to reach up. Arms won't listen. The cup tips gently to his mouth on its own. He groans. Tastes amazing. Stomach pangs. He gulps greedily.

              The cup pulls away when he starts to splutter. He whines softly, wanting more. Was that his voice? The hand on his chin pulls away and a warm, damp cloth replaces it. The liquid crawling down his jaw is swept away. The hand on his back lowers him down gently. There are whispers drifting away from him. He's curious. Wants to thank them. Ask where he is. But the pillow envelopes his head again and all he can do is sink back into, an infinitely more peaceful, sleep.


End file.
